Ah, Shrove Tuesday: the last day of gluttonous freedom before the start of Lent!
As I was on my way out of the College after evening prayer, a friend asked me if I’ve shriven of my sins yet. I suppose I knew that there was a point to Shrove Tuesday besides from eating soon-to-be-forbidden foods and general licentiousness, but I’ve never actually stopped to think what that point might be. Hm.
I guess it makes sense to repent of one’s sins before embarking on a season of penitence: why put off until tomorrow what you can do today, right? Plus, having prepared yourself makes it easier to start out Lent with confession, which of course is ideal. Unfortunately, I still don’t have a regular confessor, so that’s not a possibility for me at the moment. I confess, I do miss the anonymous boxes at St. Pat’s.
*sigh*
I don’t really know what it means to be shriven of one’s sins. I guess it means, like, acknowledging and regretting them, and having them erased. (the fact that I don’t know the definition of this word speaks volumes about my education in English Literature)
The concept of being shriven – shriving? – makes me think of what it means to be forgiven, generally.
What exactly is the sacrament of reconciliation? Obviously, it’s meant to impart grace, usually understood as strength to not commit the same sin again. But lots of sacramentals, like holy water, also impart grace…surely, what makes reconciliation a sacrament isn’t solely that it does so inerrantly. Right?
Reconciliation is supposed to have a real effect on the soul, repairing a rift between the soul and God caused by sin. Hence, Roman Catholic theology maintains that, strictly speaking, only mortal sins require confession; venial sins only incur a temporal penalty (i.e. Purgatory).
The problem of reconciliation, as I see it, is twofold. First, the division between mortal and venial sin seems a bit arbitrary, because it translates the idea of being a sinner from a categorical truth to a matter of degree. Secondly, it’s difficult to precisely locate the mechanism of the sacrament. Is it in the contrite attitude? The admission of guilt? Or the pronouncement of absolution? It’s the only sacrament that requires a specific disposition of the will in order to be effective. In a pinch, the special grace of the sacrament can be obtained by nothing more than a true act of contrition. So why do we need a priest, if it’s a matter between the soul and God alone? Why do we call it a sacrament?
I only have two answers for this, which I think can both be true (or, alternately, both wrong).
One is that it’s possible the soul’s true contrition is produced by the sacrament. Being separated from God, one needs help to return. Maybe you want to be truly, deeply sorry, and because of this genuine want, God imparts true contrition in the sacrament, bringing the soul back to Him in a way it never could achieve on its own.
Another is that, as the BAS tells me, reconciliation is actually corporate, because it affects not just the person but the Church. I guess it’s a bit like having a crazy person in the family: while there’s no doubt that the person is the crazy one, their craziness affects the whole family. Fixing the crazy person changes the whole family. Hence, reconciliation is literally a sacrament of the Church, acting through and on the individual to strengthen and repair the whole, changing the Church and not just one person or component in it.
As I write this, I realize that I may, in fact, be a heretic; I’d be eternally grateful if people could point that out.
I think I'll go back to my traditional Shrove Tuesday observances, rather than be confused by this question of reconciliation...with a special focus on WAFFLES!!!!!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Don't Say I Didn't Warn You
(Mk 7:31-37)
The thing that unsettles me about this passage is that I don’t understand why Jesus would tell the crowd to keep quiet about what he’d done. He can’t be serious, right? The best way to make sure gossip spreads is to tell people not to talk about it: we all know that from belonging to parishes. The more he commands them to keep it under wraps, the more they’re determined to make sure everyone knows.
I personally doubt their disobedience had Jesus pacing around, anxiously pulling out his hair and thinking, “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?!” This leaves me with a problem, because now I have to question why Jesus would say something he doesn’t mean.
I think that Jesus intends to test their faith in a way similar to his interaction with the Syrophoenecian woman in the passage immediately before this one, when he initially refuses to heal her daughter because she doesn’t belong to the chosen people – in both cases, he says something that elicits a proclamation of faith. A proverbial “you say that you believe: prove it.”
This healing episode is particularly interesting because it brings to life Isaiah’s prophesy about the healing of a mute man, and thus contains a message of Jesus’ messiah-hood that goes beyond his reputation as a wonder-worker. Here, Jesus-as-Messiah appears to everyone, and not just a select group of disciples. The story presents a conflict between silence and speech, between secrecy and proclamation. It is from within this conflict that the people must decide what to do.
Deciding whether to preach the Gospel or to curl up with it somewhere safe is a choice each person must make for himself, and the crowd’s decision not to shut up about it testifies to their belief that it should be told. They’re courageous in their own way, risking the wrath of Jesus himself. And we’re left with the uncomfortable truth that Jesus intends what he’s saying to have a different effect than what’s implied in the words themselves.
It shouldn’t be that surprising: most of Jesus’ teachings are parables. To understand him, it’s necessary to look beneath the surface and search for the truth. Mutely accepting everything he says could lead to some scary consequences, like not spreading the word, or thinking that God’s Kingdom is a giant mustard bush in the sky. I guess what I’m trying to say is that to really live the Gospel, you have to be willing to challenge it and allow it to challenge you, to push at it and follow what it calls you to do, even if the words you challenge come from Jesus himself.
I wonder what would have happened if the people in the crowd had actually done what Jesus told them to do. I don’t think it would have made much difference. The deaf-mute man walking around hearing and speaking probably would have given it away. And even if this story never spread at all, the effect of God’s Kingdom would still be present. Their involvement in it, their decision to act and participate, is what would have been lost; the real and crucial effect of their decision is in their own lives.
Of course, this thought experiment is a moot point, because the people in the story do go out and tell everyone. I don’t think they would have been capable of secrecy: revealing the Kingdom’s presence and then expecting the people to shut up about it is about as effective as trying to smuggle sunshine past a rooster. There are places in Mark where people do agree to keep silent, and their decision is the correct one. The key is discretion and judgment, allowing the Gospel to successfully reach into a specific time and place.
Our response to the Gospel should be no different. We should be fearless, always exploring our faith and proclaiming it, but never letting our own designs or desires displace the message of God. Our response to the Good News requires discernment. It requires the joyful courage to stand up and proclaim what we know, even when every voice is against us, even when it’s something no one wants to hear, even knowing that telling it isn’t without risk to ourselves, at the same time always being careful to discern what it is the Gospel calls us to do, and when.
(additional texts: Ps 81:8-16; 1 Kgs 11:29-32, 12:19)
The thing that unsettles me about this passage is that I don’t understand why Jesus would tell the crowd to keep quiet about what he’d done. He can’t be serious, right? The best way to make sure gossip spreads is to tell people not to talk about it: we all know that from belonging to parishes. The more he commands them to keep it under wraps, the more they’re determined to make sure everyone knows.
I personally doubt their disobedience had Jesus pacing around, anxiously pulling out his hair and thinking, “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?!” This leaves me with a problem, because now I have to question why Jesus would say something he doesn’t mean.
I think that Jesus intends to test their faith in a way similar to his interaction with the Syrophoenecian woman in the passage immediately before this one, when he initially refuses to heal her daughter because she doesn’t belong to the chosen people – in both cases, he says something that elicits a proclamation of faith. A proverbial “you say that you believe: prove it.”
This healing episode is particularly interesting because it brings to life Isaiah’s prophesy about the healing of a mute man, and thus contains a message of Jesus’ messiah-hood that goes beyond his reputation as a wonder-worker. Here, Jesus-as-Messiah appears to everyone, and not just a select group of disciples. The story presents a conflict between silence and speech, between secrecy and proclamation. It is from within this conflict that the people must decide what to do.
Deciding whether to preach the Gospel or to curl up with it somewhere safe is a choice each person must make for himself, and the crowd’s decision not to shut up about it testifies to their belief that it should be told. They’re courageous in their own way, risking the wrath of Jesus himself. And we’re left with the uncomfortable truth that Jesus intends what he’s saying to have a different effect than what’s implied in the words themselves.
It shouldn’t be that surprising: most of Jesus’ teachings are parables. To understand him, it’s necessary to look beneath the surface and search for the truth. Mutely accepting everything he says could lead to some scary consequences, like not spreading the word, or thinking that God’s Kingdom is a giant mustard bush in the sky. I guess what I’m trying to say is that to really live the Gospel, you have to be willing to challenge it and allow it to challenge you, to push at it and follow what it calls you to do, even if the words you challenge come from Jesus himself.
I wonder what would have happened if the people in the crowd had actually done what Jesus told them to do. I don’t think it would have made much difference. The deaf-mute man walking around hearing and speaking probably would have given it away. And even if this story never spread at all, the effect of God’s Kingdom would still be present. Their involvement in it, their decision to act and participate, is what would have been lost; the real and crucial effect of their decision is in their own lives.
Of course, this thought experiment is a moot point, because the people in the story do go out and tell everyone. I don’t think they would have been capable of secrecy: revealing the Kingdom’s presence and then expecting the people to shut up about it is about as effective as trying to smuggle sunshine past a rooster. There are places in Mark where people do agree to keep silent, and their decision is the correct one. The key is discretion and judgment, allowing the Gospel to successfully reach into a specific time and place.
Our response to the Gospel should be no different. We should be fearless, always exploring our faith and proclaiming it, but never letting our own designs or desires displace the message of God. Our response to the Good News requires discernment. It requires the joyful courage to stand up and proclaim what we know, even when every voice is against us, even when it’s something no one wants to hear, even knowing that telling it isn’t without risk to ourselves, at the same time always being careful to discern what it is the Gospel calls us to do, and when.
(additional texts: Ps 81:8-16; 1 Kgs 11:29-32, 12:19)
Friday, February 5, 2010
I Have To What??
So today one of my friends wrote my name on the sheet of people who have to do sermonizing-and-what-not on Fridays. I know that if I erase it, she'll just write it back again.
Curses!
In other news, I am still obsessed with exorcisms. Also, I learned a new card game, which I lost but had fun playing.
Tomorrow I'm going to have breakfast with my uncle and meet his new gf: I'm excited!
Also, I am noticing the fact that my ability to comprehend and synthesize complex ideas is still sub-par, thanks to a series of medical interventions. This will make my saying anything remotely worthwhile unlikely. That includes this blog, which also serves as excellent proof that the Internet allows anyone to publish anything. Thus, not particularly looking forward to Friday.
Curses.
Curses!
In other news, I am still obsessed with exorcisms. Also, I learned a new card game, which I lost but had fun playing.
Tomorrow I'm going to have breakfast with my uncle and meet his new gf: I'm excited!
Also, I am noticing the fact that my ability to comprehend and synthesize complex ideas is still sub-par, thanks to a series of medical interventions. This will make my saying anything remotely worthwhile unlikely. That includes this blog, which also serves as excellent proof that the Internet allows anyone to publish anything. Thus, not particularly looking forward to Friday.
Curses.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
To See One's Shadow
Today I was going to go to an Anglo-Catholic church to celebrate Candlemass – the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple. I’ve never actually observed it before, so I was exited. From what I overheard yesterday, it actually involves candles! I love candles from church services: I like to take them home and use them to light other candles.
Anyway, what happened instead is that I started going there after evening prayer and then realized that I actually wasn’t feeling very well and that it was cold. I really wasn’t looking forward to walking back alone in the dark. So I took the train home instead.
Since I don’t know anything about the celebration, I’ll do what I always do when I don’t know what I’m talking about: talk LOUDER. Just kidding, I mean I’ll talk about Mary. After all, it’s the Purification of Mary as well.
I have to confess, I find the notion that a woman is ‘unclean’ after childbirth distasteful. Ergo, I like to re-imagine what this ceremony means, even though my meanderings are basically groundless.
I imagine that, somehow, formally thanking God for your child and praising Him in an established ritual completes the process of giving birth to a child. That giving birth is as much a ritual as it is a physical process. That it’s a sacramental, like chrism or folding your hands reverently in prayer. Something inward, accomplished by and joined to an outward sign.
I think I read once that what happens with firstborn boys is that they actually belong to God, and that you sacrifice at the temple in order to buy them back or something. So Jesus belongs to Mary (and Joseph), not to God. Maybe that’s how she makes him turn the water into wine?
But enough of this. Today marks another holiday as well, one that seems to have far more bearing on our immediate lives. I mean, of course, Groundhog Day. All three groundhogs I know about saw their shadows today, so we’re in for a cold spell. Curses!
C. G. Jung understood the Shadow to be an archetype, a universal psychological construct containing all the things about ourselves that we try to repress (it’s something like the Freudian unconscious, composed of basic drives and desires). Our opposites, if you will. We tend to think of the Shadow as a negative splitting off (violence, hatred, etc.), what has been expelled from the Self. However, I think it’s more nuanced than that, more blurry, more individualized. The archetype is like a standard coat hanger that everyone has, upon which we place our individual and varied jackets. Even when we all have the same coat, they're all in slightly different shades. Maybe there’s someone out there who’s completely repressed their shyness. Whoever that it, is ain’t me.
Like all Jungian archetypes, the Shadow is part of a complex in which one part is dominant (for example: the Anima and Animus, male and female, also known as Soul). Total dominance is unhealthy: what’s necessary is the proper balance and integration. Professor Zuroff from the Psychology department says that the reason Luke Skywalker is so bland is that he’s over-repressing his shadow; Han Solo, who’s more vibrant, is doing it right.
Trying not to see your shadow, to block it out or cover it up with searing bright light, only makes you blind and unable to function (like Captain Kirk in that episode where the transporter splits him in half and neither the totally good Kirk nor the totally evil one can do anything useful).
We, like the groundhogs, are naturally scared of our Shadow, because we find it to be troubling, wild, threatening, unknown and uncontrollable. But being totally terrified by it isn’t useful either: then you just run away in fear back to ‘safety,’ freezing everything, pushing back the spring and the possibility of new life, leaving everything brittle and fragile and trapped beneath the perfect ice. I sometimes worry that’s what we’ve done to Mary: purified her.
What we need to understand about her is what we need in our own lives: to integrate the various aspects of ourselves and become the Self, the whole person in relationship with God, the Self as an intermeshing with both one's full humanity and the Divine, like perichoresis in the Trinity, around and in and through, together.
I think we’re not so much to be perfect as to realize that we are ransomed as Jesus was ransomed, free to return to God on our own, travelling through both the shadow and the light.
Anyway, what happened instead is that I started going there after evening prayer and then realized that I actually wasn’t feeling very well and that it was cold. I really wasn’t looking forward to walking back alone in the dark. So I took the train home instead.
Since I don’t know anything about the celebration, I’ll do what I always do when I don’t know what I’m talking about: talk LOUDER. Just kidding, I mean I’ll talk about Mary. After all, it’s the Purification of Mary as well.
I have to confess, I find the notion that a woman is ‘unclean’ after childbirth distasteful. Ergo, I like to re-imagine what this ceremony means, even though my meanderings are basically groundless.
I imagine that, somehow, formally thanking God for your child and praising Him in an established ritual completes the process of giving birth to a child. That giving birth is as much a ritual as it is a physical process. That it’s a sacramental, like chrism or folding your hands reverently in prayer. Something inward, accomplished by and joined to an outward sign.
I think I read once that what happens with firstborn boys is that they actually belong to God, and that you sacrifice at the temple in order to buy them back or something. So Jesus belongs to Mary (and Joseph), not to God. Maybe that’s how she makes him turn the water into wine?
But enough of this. Today marks another holiday as well, one that seems to have far more bearing on our immediate lives. I mean, of course, Groundhog Day. All three groundhogs I know about saw their shadows today, so we’re in for a cold spell. Curses!
C. G. Jung understood the Shadow to be an archetype, a universal psychological construct containing all the things about ourselves that we try to repress (it’s something like the Freudian unconscious, composed of basic drives and desires). Our opposites, if you will. We tend to think of the Shadow as a negative splitting off (violence, hatred, etc.), what has been expelled from the Self. However, I think it’s more nuanced than that, more blurry, more individualized. The archetype is like a standard coat hanger that everyone has, upon which we place our individual and varied jackets. Even when we all have the same coat, they're all in slightly different shades. Maybe there’s someone out there who’s completely repressed their shyness. Whoever that it, is ain’t me.
Like all Jungian archetypes, the Shadow is part of a complex in which one part is dominant (for example: the Anima and Animus, male and female, also known as Soul). Total dominance is unhealthy: what’s necessary is the proper balance and integration. Professor Zuroff from the Psychology department says that the reason Luke Skywalker is so bland is that he’s over-repressing his shadow; Han Solo, who’s more vibrant, is doing it right.
Trying not to see your shadow, to block it out or cover it up with searing bright light, only makes you blind and unable to function (like Captain Kirk in that episode where the transporter splits him in half and neither the totally good Kirk nor the totally evil one can do anything useful).
We, like the groundhogs, are naturally scared of our Shadow, because we find it to be troubling, wild, threatening, unknown and uncontrollable. But being totally terrified by it isn’t useful either: then you just run away in fear back to ‘safety,’ freezing everything, pushing back the spring and the possibility of new life, leaving everything brittle and fragile and trapped beneath the perfect ice. I sometimes worry that’s what we’ve done to Mary: purified her.
What we need to understand about her is what we need in our own lives: to integrate the various aspects of ourselves and become the Self, the whole person in relationship with God, the Self as an intermeshing with both one's full humanity and the Divine, like perichoresis in the Trinity, around and in and through, together.
I think we’re not so much to be perfect as to realize that we are ransomed as Jesus was ransomed, free to return to God on our own, travelling through both the shadow and the light.
Monday, February 1, 2010
You Said It, You Weirdo (or, the year in review)
Based on my calculations, I started this blog one year ago. In keeping with the annual-vestry-meeting theme going on at my church, I’ve decided to reflect on the past year. (Question: what is a vestry? It sounds like a place for the priest to get dressed. In which case, is the name of the meeting a metaphor for catching the priest half out of his robes and crowding in on him while he’s still partway between worlds – Mass and Coffee Hour?) [please excuse my gendered language]
In honor of my theme, I went back and read the first entry I posted. Wow, is it weird! I’ve never really read it before. I know that sounds bizarre, but when I wrote it it was more like something was pouring through me than like I was creating something…If only I could blame alcohol! Ah well, you live and learn.
In many ways, this blog testifies to the fact that I’ve accomplished almost nothing of substance. I still feel adrift. I still feel like I need to learn more about this place I’m drifting to, and I still don’t know how. I still feel as though I’m caught partway between worlds, in some ways crowded about by observers and commentators while I’m not quite ready to know where I stand.
It’s been a difficult year, personally, though no darkness is completely without light. I still have great difficulty getting the words ‘please help me’ out of my mouth, which is ironic since I can be somewhat aggressive in my helping of people. I guess I have to ask myself whether I really want to be helped by someone, or whether what I really want is to be alone in it, because I’m comfortable here. Sometimes I am afraid that if I really allow myself the self-indulgence of asking someone to understand and be supporting, I’ll end up in the pieces of myself that I’ve tried so hard to hold together.
Oh well, there’s always next year.
The ‘cards’ give me cryptic advice, as I read them. In my family, I need to look carefully within people and learn to see what is good and beautiful about them (I have someone particular in mind, but that’s neither here nor there). I also need to discover my own emotions so I can connect better with people, and maybe learn to see the good in that as well. I guess you could say I should try to be more optimistic and have a sunny disposition, generally making me a happier and more playful person, basically like I was before I went so spectacularly crazy.
Thinking of money and stuff, I have to think carefully and always doubt, keeping in mind the idea that I may have made mistakes. I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with my investments, which are pretty darn secure. What I think this is about is more like not letting the things I’ve done or decided to do before dictate my way forward simply by momentum (I have a certain warm-and-fuzzy obsession in mind here, but that’s neither here nor there). Thinking carefully and acting with more common sense is important so I don’t piss other people off. I think I need to be careful in my relationships with others and not get swept away, kind of like I was before I went so spectacularly crazy.
I also need to be careful that the things I have don’t end up bogging me down so that I’m trapped in them (again, the obsession). I need to take some initiative in terms of getting out of that. Two messages on the same thing: that’s a pretty clear sign. I do need to have some more ambition in other areas, so that I can accomplish what other people want for my life, on my behalf (I’m thinking that I need to finish my thesis, but that’s neither here nor there).
My dealings with the world and the things in it need to be more generous. Um. Maybe I’m spending too much time praying, to the neglect of everything else? But I like prayer…right now I’m quite fond of the Office of Readings. Alternately, maybe I just need to learn to cut people a little more slack (I’m thinking of someone specific, but that’s neither here nor there). Also, maybe be a little less judgmental in my dealings with church and whatnot, kind of like I was before I went so spectacularly crazy. This kind of shift should make me a better person. I think I need to work on all the ways I’m lacking.
If there is a theme, it’s that I need to return to a time when I was more fully myself, before I went so spectacularly crazy. (I went crazy after college, so it's been a while. I think in a way I like it here.) Although there’s pretty much always been a sort of sorrow following me around, since I was very young, I was also a lot happier. Enthusiastic about everything. Scary smart-ish, and also kind of a class comedian (ah, Chemistry class!!). More importantly, optimistic about my life, ambitious, totally in love with God, extremely emotional, joyful, and a lot better at rebounding from various horrible things.
Yep, I think I want that Kat back. I think I found part of her when I lit that glow-stick last weekend. It was blue. Believe it or not, despite my general inertia which I discussed earlier, I’ve actually been working on this part quite intensively. I’m confident that when all the side-effects of my efforts fade away – which shall henceforth be referred to as ‘the plan’ – things will become sunny again.
[update added way way later whe no one will even see it: I should probably tell you that the reason I've been so fucked up recently is because a few months back I was raped again. By another professor. So that makes two. Except this time we'd been seeing each other, and I told him I didn't want to have sex that day, and he did it anyway after the meds I was taking basically knocked me out. So I guess it's date rape. Haven't really said anything about it because it's humiliating].
In honor of my theme, I went back and read the first entry I posted. Wow, is it weird! I’ve never really read it before. I know that sounds bizarre, but when I wrote it it was more like something was pouring through me than like I was creating something…If only I could blame alcohol! Ah well, you live and learn.
In many ways, this blog testifies to the fact that I’ve accomplished almost nothing of substance. I still feel adrift. I still feel like I need to learn more about this place I’m drifting to, and I still don’t know how. I still feel as though I’m caught partway between worlds, in some ways crowded about by observers and commentators while I’m not quite ready to know where I stand.
It’s been a difficult year, personally, though no darkness is completely without light. I still have great difficulty getting the words ‘please help me’ out of my mouth, which is ironic since I can be somewhat aggressive in my helping of people. I guess I have to ask myself whether I really want to be helped by someone, or whether what I really want is to be alone in it, because I’m comfortable here. Sometimes I am afraid that if I really allow myself the self-indulgence of asking someone to understand and be supporting, I’ll end up in the pieces of myself that I’ve tried so hard to hold together.
Oh well, there’s always next year.
The ‘cards’ give me cryptic advice, as I read them. In my family, I need to look carefully within people and learn to see what is good and beautiful about them (I have someone particular in mind, but that’s neither here nor there). I also need to discover my own emotions so I can connect better with people, and maybe learn to see the good in that as well. I guess you could say I should try to be more optimistic and have a sunny disposition, generally making me a happier and more playful person, basically like I was before I went so spectacularly crazy.
Thinking of money and stuff, I have to think carefully and always doubt, keeping in mind the idea that I may have made mistakes. I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with my investments, which are pretty darn secure. What I think this is about is more like not letting the things I’ve done or decided to do before dictate my way forward simply by momentum (I have a certain warm-and-fuzzy obsession in mind here, but that’s neither here nor there). Thinking carefully and acting with more common sense is important so I don’t piss other people off. I think I need to be careful in my relationships with others and not get swept away, kind of like I was before I went so spectacularly crazy.
I also need to be careful that the things I have don’t end up bogging me down so that I’m trapped in them (again, the obsession). I need to take some initiative in terms of getting out of that. Two messages on the same thing: that’s a pretty clear sign. I do need to have some more ambition in other areas, so that I can accomplish what other people want for my life, on my behalf (I’m thinking that I need to finish my thesis, but that’s neither here nor there).
My dealings with the world and the things in it need to be more generous. Um. Maybe I’m spending too much time praying, to the neglect of everything else? But I like prayer…right now I’m quite fond of the Office of Readings. Alternately, maybe I just need to learn to cut people a little more slack (I’m thinking of someone specific, but that’s neither here nor there). Also, maybe be a little less judgmental in my dealings with church and whatnot, kind of like I was before I went so spectacularly crazy. This kind of shift should make me a better person. I think I need to work on all the ways I’m lacking.
If there is a theme, it’s that I need to return to a time when I was more fully myself, before I went so spectacularly crazy. (I went crazy after college, so it's been a while. I think in a way I like it here.) Although there’s pretty much always been a sort of sorrow following me around, since I was very young, I was also a lot happier. Enthusiastic about everything. Scary smart-ish, and also kind of a class comedian (ah, Chemistry class!!). More importantly, optimistic about my life, ambitious, totally in love with God, extremely emotional, joyful, and a lot better at rebounding from various horrible things.
Yep, I think I want that Kat back. I think I found part of her when I lit that glow-stick last weekend. It was blue. Believe it or not, despite my general inertia which I discussed earlier, I’ve actually been working on this part quite intensively. I’m confident that when all the side-effects of my efforts fade away – which shall henceforth be referred to as ‘the plan’ – things will become sunny again.
[update added way way later whe no one will even see it: I should probably tell you that the reason I've been so fucked up recently is because a few months back I was raped again. By another professor. So that makes two. Except this time we'd been seeing each other, and I told him I didn't want to have sex that day, and he did it anyway after the meds I was taking basically knocked me out. So I guess it's date rape. Haven't really said anything about it because it's humiliating].
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